


Pendulum

by Abyssia



Series: Scattered Blossoms [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude being a [REDACTED], F/M, Face-Sitting, Post-Crimson Flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssia/pseuds/Abyssia
Summary: Claude and Lysithea reunite after the events of Crimson flower, and in relief at finding the other alive, they get a little closer to fully accepting the feelings that had teased at the edges of being realised back when they still fought and learned side by side.
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan
Series: Scattered Blossoms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761631
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Pendulum

Another party, another gaggle of exhausting nobles; at least that is what Claude wishes he could be thinking. He wished that he could just write this off, just glide through this party on a few grins and jumble of flattering words. But no, this was anything but a normal gathering, a meaningless frolic...This was the first time Claude has been back in Fodlan in years, and indeed, his first time in the Imperial capital.

Speaking of the Emperor, on this night, she is sporting a somewhat unique look. Her hair, once identical in its starlit hue to Lysithea's, was now an understated mousy brown. It was difficult to tell under her elaborate headdress, but Claude manages to glimpse a lock or too during their cordial audience.

Edelgard has really done a lot with the place, the same country, same people, but an entirely different air. The heady, suffocating cloud of obligation and duty that had enveloped Claude when he had first arrived, by now, he could swear he was just now seeing a break in the clouds.

But there was still an endless pile of worries. Deep-seated concerns that lingered in his bones and wandered out along his hands, causing the champagne glass in his hand to tremble.

A good chunk of his former Golden Deer classmates had left along with Edelgard all those years ago. Marianne and Lorenz to name a few. But others slipped away later. Lysithea, for one. She seemed to finally have been convinced during the battle of Derdriu itself. And so obviously, Claude hasn’t seen her since. Claude said goodbye to a few other precious faces that day too.

For all Claude knew, Lysithea could be dead. He hasn’t heard anything, or perhaps he just hasn’t been listening. He heard about Linhardt, whom he vaguely remembers to have been quite interested in Marianne as well as Lysithea; his research institute was said to be quite reputable already. And if anyone could figure out how to save Lysithea(and Edelgard) it would be him.

Not Claude, at the very least. He couldn’t help but keep an eye out, but there was only so much in Almyra that could even be called relevant to Lysithea’s unique ailment.

The crowd and the music around Claude swirls thicker, heavier. Why is he so bothered by this? It’s just a party. Sure, chatting with his old Classmates had been draining; knowing that Hubert is watching him constantly is a bit unnerving. But, why?

Claude can’t quite put his finger on it, perhaps the alcohol is already getting to him. But as the night progresses, he has garnered the bizarre sensation that he is being haunted at this party, by a ghost.

He glimpses it at the corner of his vision, flitting through the cloud. A silhouette that is almost familiar, but not quite. A head of black hair, a flash of pink skin, and then—

Piercing rose quartz eyes.

Claude must have lost consciousness because the next thing he knows, he’s waking up and those eyes are now hovering above him.

“Claude!”

The voice is familiar, even if nothing else is and he reacts to that alone.

But then, as if he were waking from a dream, Claude finds his eyes opening.

He is lying down on a sofa, head propped up on with some pillows against the arm of the sofa. Looking over, he sees her again. 

“Lys...” Claude breathes, in a state of near enrapturement. Her hair, her stature; the lively tone of her skin. Everything is different. There is strength in her frame, but her eyes, are unmistakable.

She stares back at him, her face unchanged for the moment before she looks away. 

She is seated by the bed, clearly having been tending to him after he had lost consciousness.

Claude wants to reach out, but a part of him fears that she will just disappear before his very eyes again. 

When Lysithea had defected to the imperial army that day, Claude had felt one of the threads holding him to Fódlan snap. And then, when Hilda— Claude shakes his head, tries to clear away the demons, the memories.

“It really is you, isn’t it?”

“You could have had the courtesy to at least introduce yourself first,” she grumbles, wringing out a wet cloth before bringing it to Claude’s forehead.  “What happened?” Lysithea asks, a bit of concern leaking into her voice. Claude opens his eyes to confirm this and then lets his eyes close again with some satisfaction. 

“Must have just had too much to drink.” 

Lysithea knew that was a lie. She knew that Claude was all but immune to alcohol among many other poisons.“I would rather not have to lecture you,” Lys states, resting her hands on her thighs and sitting back against her chair.

“That’s certainly a change,”

Lysithea’s lips turn down into a frown.

“So,” Claude continues, opening his eyes again. “I heard about Linhardt and Co. working on a cure, but I didn’t expect—”

“Yeah,” she cuts him off, her cheeks suddenly warming in apparent embarrassment. “I know I look different,” she shrugs. “I guess I can’t blame you for not recognising me at first then since I—”

“Lysithea you look beautiful,” Claude blurts, this causing her face to flush further as she stares back at him. 

Lysithea turns her face away in an annoyed pout. “I guess you must have hit your head when you passed out.”

Claude laughs, his smile actually crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

Lysithea shrugs. “I mean. I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to come find me…”

“Lysithea, I had no idea you were even still alive.”

She grimaces. “Well really I expected it," she shifts nervously. “I did end up defecting in the end.”

“I don’t blame you,” he says. “The alliance was pretty much doomed by that point. And it looks like you and Edelgard have a lot in common.”

Lysithea glances away again. 

“I’m not mad, honest,” he says, shifting a bit on the sofa. “Leading the alliance was just supposed to be a stepping stone towards my goal, but it looks like I’ve lost my footing and fallen into right into the river.”

Lysithea grimaces. “Whatever, I don’t care about that, not right now at least.” She leans forward and Claude looks to her suddenly, his cheeks dusting pink. “I’ve missed you, I hope you know that.”

“Oh??” Claude is too taken off guard by her sudden closeness and her searingly genuine expression.

Her lips then turn down into a pout. You could have at least written, to tell me where you’d gone.

“Hey, I did write. I told Edelgard as soon as I got a stable footing.”

“I mean you should have told me!”

Claude’s lips fall open in realisation as it comes together. Now he understands. Of course, Lysithea would assume Claude felt betrayed by her, considering he hadn’t sent so much as a single letter.

“Lysithea…” he says, some sort of foreign, unnamable emotion crawling out of his throat and clinging his words. “Stay with me a little while?”

She looks back at him, her face flushing suddenly. “Well, of course. You are clearly still not fully recovered from your little fainting spell earlier.”

Claude lets out a gentle laugh, his smile warm again. He really had missed her, but who knows if he would be able to even express that in words properly.

“Alright,” Claude says with a grunt. “I really do appreciate your tending loving care but,” he grins at her. “I’d rather get up and stretch my legs for a bit. If the doctor approves of course.”

Lysithea grimaces but pulls away. She seems a little peeved about something, which Claude finds to be fascinating. “What’s that face for?” he asks. “I asked you to stay with me, didn’t I?” he offers her a hand once he has fully stood. “Plus, I don’t know my way around anywhere, you will have to guide me,” he says.

Lysithea takes his hand. “There’s a roof garden nearby. Afterwords,” her face flushes. “You can just, come back here and stay in my room tonight if you want.”

Claude flushes at her forwardness, but is more than glad for it. Honestly, the last thing he wanted was to deal with his minders and attendants back at his guest quarters. He would much rather just—

In the middle of his thoughts, Claude finds himself interrupted by a sudden warm, wet pressure against his lips. It takes far too long for him to realise that Lysithea had kissed him, and she is already pulling away by the time he is able to respond. 

They find their way to the open-air garden. The stars now slowly wheeling overhead. Lysithea’s hair now no longer appears to glow in the dark, but Claude still can’t help but stare. He clings to her hand and leads her to a bench near the centre. Whatever had overtaken him before was now dissipated and he lets out a long pleased sigh. 

Seated on the bench, they remain silent for many long moments. Even if there was a certain urgency to leave the past behind, it couldn’t help but linger between the two of them. 

“Did you get to see your family again?”

Claude starts for a moment gaping at her before managing to reply. “Uh, yeah,” he then gives a sheepish grin. “My mom wasn’t even in the capital when I got back. It was months until I actually saw her face again.”

“Your mom was Tiana von Riegan, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And your dad is?”

“The king of Almyra.”

Lysithea remains silent, examining what she can see of his profile in the moonlight. “I guess that makes sense then,” she says, turning back to look back at the sky.

“Oh? What exactly has to great Lysithea figured out?”

“Why you kept that hidden, I guess,” she shrugs, squeezing his hand. “But what I don’t get...” Lysithea begins, her lips twisting in contemplation. “Is why you’re back here.”

Claude forces out a laugh. “Now wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually,” she shoots him a glare before her eyes drift down to their connected hands. “I figured that...you know,” her cheeks then flush as her eyes move away to the middle-distance. “I always assumed that—”

Claude turns to face her, placing his other hand over hers and leaning in. “Hey know. I’ll understand better if you tell me what you’re thinking.”

It had been the night before the invasion of Derdriu. Claude had been intensely scarce to anyone that could still be called his friend. And truthfully, nothing less should have been expected. The lords of the Northern Alliance were not willing to capitulate to empire, not without a fight it seemed. Claude was beginning to be desperate, but in the end, it looked like an invasion was the only recourse left. 

Lysithea, despite her family’s, once compelled, and now willing cooperation with the Empire had made her way here. Hilda as well had been sent from the east, and it seemed almost like a small bittersweet reunion.

Claude however was far from the seemingly carefree boy he once had been. Every interaction was filled to the brim with tension and worry, the weight of the entire Alliance had been resting on his shoulders for the past 5 years after all.

Hilda found herself a bit shut out, for reasons that she was finally beginning to understand. She had brought with her reports of the conflicts at Fodlan’s throat, news that Nader was launching an assault in the coming weeks. Hilda had been somewhat haughty, confident in her brother and father’s ability to hold the Locket as always. Lysithea, seated by Claude’s side at that meeting, had to notice just the slightest change in his demeanour.

Sure Hilda had to have known? Claude’s complexion was far from common in Fodlan, even this close to the border. But, she was either blissfully or intentionally unaware. Claude was composed and competent, but anyone could see how he struggled with Fodlani at times, his almyran dialect was even thicker than those of seafaring traders and merchants. He spoke Fodlani like a noble, but with far less poise, like someone who had been raised in nobility but with no care for its traditions. But Claude, clearly had not been raised in Leicester.

After that meeting, Claude made himself scarce and Lysithea took the liberty of following after him, slipping into his study and waiting for him to finally setting down. 

“Gah!” Claude exclaims upon seeing her seated silently at his desk chair. “What, are you trying to conquer your fear by becoming like a ghost yourself?” He takes in a heavy breath and forces himself to calm down, walking over to where she sat.

“Do you need something? I’m just here to grab a couple of things real quick.”

“You haven't slept in days.”

“What, have you been watching me at night and tracking my sleep? You’re one of those lingering ghosts then aren’t you?” He says, avoiding her gaze while picking up a few scrolls from his desk.

“Now who’s the one being childish? A proper adult should know when to rest,” she grumbles.

Claude laughs, turning towards her, his expression something she can’t quite parse. “It has really been great to see you again Lysithea. Really takes me back.”

“Rest here for a while.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m just here for a few things.”

“The imperial army arrives tomorrow. Whatever letters you have to send won’t even get out for days.”

Claude pauses, his hand relaxing around the last scroll and letting it remain on the table. She was right. At this point, he has done everything he possibly can. Anything else is just delaying the inevitable. He sighs and puts all the letters back on the table turning to face Lysithea, his gaze softening. “Alright then. What do you suggest then?”

Lysithea stands from her chair and grabs both of Claude’s hands, dragging him towards the bedroom. “Lying down on a bed would be ideal.”

Claude lets out a laugh, slightly warm this time. “I certainly can’t say no to that. Lead the way.”

Lysithea leads Claude by the hand once again, pulling him up from the bench and towards the balcony railing. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? Before the imperials came?”

Claude looks at Lysithea and then back up at the sky. “Not sure honestly, I say a lot of things when I’m half-asleep.”

“You said that you’d find a way to cure me. And that you’d take me away from this place that hurt me.”

“Ah,” Claude winces. “That does sound like something I would say. Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“I don’t care about that,” she turns towards him and grabs his other hand. “You’re not a crest scholar or a doctor, so how could you have hoped to solve it on your own?”

“I’m almost a little jealous,” Claude says, releasing one of her hands and reaching out to touch her hair. “Linhardt ended up being the one to keep my promise for me.”

Lysithea blushes and glances away. “I mean, he promised too.”

“Then maybe some thanks are in order,” Claude grins. “I’ll be sure to seek him out when I have the spare moment.”

Lysithea scoffs. “I don’t care, Claude!” She glares at him again, stepping closer and reaching up to grab his face. “All I care about is that you’re here right now, okay!”

Claude stares back at her for a moment before his face melts into something softer. “Got it. I’m here, and I have you to thank for taking care of me tonight so, of course, I’m all yours.”

Lysithea continues to frown, but her hand against his cheek softens into a caress. “Okay then,” she jerks him by the hand again and leads him back inside to his suite.

Claude had noticed it before, but the true extent of her physical rejuvenation was surely only going to become more and more apparent to him. Before, Lysithea’s grip could be easily resisted or shaken out of, but now, it was honestly easier just not to resist. 

She leads him back to the bedroom, much like she had in that night in Derdriu, but already he can tell that her intentions are quite different. When she pulls him into an embrace, he feels her hands dig into his back, tugging at his clothes as if annoyed at their presence. What had been just a series of shy, chaste kisses and a night holding each other close, was now set to burn much stronger.

Lysithea kisses his neck and Claude lets out a low groan. He rests his hands on her back and feels the presence of actual muscle mass there. Just enough that she could jerk him around if he wanted, not quite enough to overpower him, but Claude was more than happy to pretend otherwise for the moment. 

He lets himself be pulled onto the bed and lies down compliantly, letting her crawl on top of him. His lips take on something approaching a genuine smile as her hands promptly begin to roam his neck and chest. Maybe there would be no more need for words, but frankly, Claude wanted to keep talking. He wants to keep hearing her voice, keep being reminded in every possible way that she was alive, and was here with him. 

Lysithea then moves back to sit on his hips so that she can start to pull his shirt off over his head. Claude lets out a warm chuckle and lifts his arms to help. “You did always know exactly what you wanted, and how to get it,” he says, meeting her gaze with a wry grin on his lips.

Lysithea scoffs and proceeds to tug off her own dress without any sort of warning. This then causes Claude to stutter, his hands going almost as if to stop her, but he’s not fast enough. The next moment he is left completely silent and unable to move by the sight of her body now illuminated by the moonlight.

Her dress hadn’t been modest by any stretch, her vastly different body shape had been obvious before but now was unavoidable. There are scars still there, Claude knows. A tangle of those mysterious white lines from before they ever met, and the more recognizable marks of weapons and arrowheads.

Claude however is at this moment enraptured by her form, round, supple breasts, the pink of her areolas and the line of her ribs to her waist and hips. The strain of her dual crests that once left her scrawny and frail was no more, and now even she has a healthy fold of fat spilling over the waistband of her undergarments.

Claude finally lets out a long breath, resting his hands on her thighs while not breaking eye contact. Lysithea watches his expectantly as if waiting for him to make some sort of comment. And in truth, he wanted to, but it would take a few more moments for any words to find a foothold in his mind that is now so consumed with the mere sight of her.

Lysithea then leans forward, bracing her hands on Claude’s chest and rubbing out to caress his shoulders. Claude lets out a groan and his eyes flutter closed for a moment, his hips slowly lifting to find friction against her body weight and Lysithea grinds back in reply. 

Lysithea’s lips then turn down into a pout and she grabs one of his hands and places it on her stomach. “Come on, don’t just lie there gape-mouthed like a fish.”

“On the contrary, being completely rendered useless is the only proper response to such a magnanimous beauty such as yourself.”

Lysithea continues to grimace even as her cheeks flush stubbornly. “Fine. I expected to have to do all the work anyway way,” she scoffs.

“Oh? You were expecting this?” He asks, one hand slowly trailing over the soft planes of her stomach.

“Obviously I was always interested in you this way, Claude!”

“Ohoho, always, huh? I guess you were a bit more grown-up than I gave you credit for.”

Lysithea scoffs, rolling her hips against Claude’s erection in just the way to cut his words off with a sudden moan. “Don’t be weird, Claude. You know what I mean.”

“I am afraid that I don’t know, Lysithea. You are going to have to demonstrate to me exactly what you mean,” he says, forcing out a grin even as her regular ruts threatened to overwhelm him with irresistible ecstasy.

Lysithea then suddenly kicks her legs forward, narrowly avoiding smacking Claude in the face, her whole weight now focused on her rear, still planted squarely on his cock. Claude grunts, but doesn’t seem to hate it, and instead is much more interested in the fact that Lysithea is swiftly taking off her undergarments. 

He hardly has a moment to watch her toss them away before he feels her slick vulva press against his abdomen. And again, he is entranced, his arms limp as he stares up at her. “Well, I just hope that my desires are clear now.”

“Crystal.” Claude gasps, clinging to her hips as if for dear life. “Although I don’t know, I suppose there are a handful of other things you could want to do by dragging me into bed and sitting naked on top of me now that you mention it.”

Lysithea lets out a growl and suddenly knots one hand in his hair, using that that drag herself forward and all finally silence him with her folds against his lips. Claude’s eyes roll back and he obediently latches his lips around her clit, flitting his tongue over the bud almost too eagerly, but Lysithea didn’t seem to mind. She appeared to already be pretty throughly turned on despite Claude having arguably done so little. But he didn’t mind. There was indeed no other thought in his mind apart from the taste of her, the feel of her thighs under his fingertips. 

Maybe later there would be more time to truly learn her, to understand her body and how she worked. Maybe then Claude would have the time to worship every part of her and take in every little thing that he missed, everything that was now known to him. Maybe, but right now, all he was going to do was make sure that Lysithea experienced as much pure pleasure as he was physically able to give her.

Because right now, he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to relinquish such vulnerability in return.

Lysithea’s thighs clench around Claude’s head and her thrusts become more insistent, more desperate as she reaches her climax. The force of her orgasm shakes her entire body and she doubles over, cradling his head even as her fingers still remain deeply knotted in his hair. 

“Claude...” she gasps through her teeth, the hands in his hair now gently caressing his scalp. In all honesty, he preferred the jolts of pain that her grip could cause him. The warm, complacent feeling that arises at her gentle touch, that he finds far more dangerous. 

Claude’s hands as well turn gentle against her thighs and waist as he begins to gently pry her away from him.

“Nrrg,” Lysithea grunts, a little annoyed at being shoved around but she doesn’t put up any resistance. She lays out on her back, that still too-unfamiliar black hair glinting in the moonlight, her body flush with afterglow, the heavy rise and fall of her chest slowly subsiding into serenity.

Claude props himself up and watches her, the fondness he feels far from being kept from his face. But while her eyes are closed, Claude can let himself be just a little more vulnerable. When Lysithea appears to be drifting into a post-orgasm dose, Claude silently pushes himself off the bed, shoving one hand in his pants to try and relieve the pulsing ache that still lingered from her rough affections.

“Claude,” Lysithea barks, her eyes opening as she looks right at him.

“If you try to leave before daybreak again. I swear you’ll regret it.”

Claude lets out a gentle laugh. “I don’t doubt it. If I ever do something to hurt you, I fully expect you to show me no mercy,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “I’m just going to go take care of myself real quick.”

Lysithea scowls. “You can do it here, or I can help.”

“I won’t be long, I promise,” he pulls his hand away and limps over to the washroom, Lysithea watching him, a skeptical smile twisting at her lips. She doesn’t believe him for a second. He said the same thing almost two years ago at Derdriu. But no matter, there would be no point in trying to get him to stay. There was still so much that she didn’t understand about him, and if he wasn’t willing to share, there was still only so much that she could force out of him.

But, given his new imminent position, they would likely be seeing more of each other, and so Lysithea could hold onto just a little bit of hope. That the next time, Claude would stay, and maybe hold her until the morning comes. That Lysithea could learn how best to make him writhe and cry out in ecstasy. Maybe, just maybe. But for the moment, she holds the piece of warmth close to her chest. As bittersweet as this parting may be, she at least knows that she has a future left to hope for. Just a little hope is all she needs to let her eyes fall closed and wait for morning to come. 


End file.
